Had the strangest dream. Not because of the dream itself, but who the co-star was: fricking Whitney Houston. Not the current Whitney, but the “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” Whitney – before Bobby Brown came along and skanked her out.
So unexpected was this surprise appearance that I actually paused in the middle of my dream and asked, “What the hell is Whitney doing in here?” (Psychologists call this lucid dreaming. I’ll be quizzing you on this later) Lord knows why this was so stunning. Maybe it’s because my REM cycles tend to be devoid of black people, which prompted the Rev. Jesse Jackson to demand a boycott.
Later, in the evening, we headed over to Euroboy’s b-day party. I don’t know Euroboy all that well, but he’s a friend of T and Steve. Not a good friend, but a friend who has a lot of hot female friends – so more of a punani connection. Someone told me that Euroboy manages the feed-the-rich-people division of the Beverly Hills Hotel, so this would explain how he got to reserve a swanky new place like Bliss.
I’m inclined to be annoyed by LA joints that feel too cool to have signs and have bouncers dressed better than me, but Bliss was quite nice. It’s got a huge fireplace that resembles the one in “Devil’s Advocate.” As for lighting, the ceiling lamps look like giant space cocoons, which immediately bring to mind the scene from “Species.” And if you’re a guy, there’s no need on my part to remind you of which scene. Both movies featured hot nekked women. Coincidence? I think not…
INTERIOR DECORATER: And for zee dining chairs, they will be exact replicas of zee chair from “Baseec Eensteenct” where Shah-rin Stone opens zee legs and reveals zee geneetals.
RESTAURANT OWNER: What the fuck … it’s Whitney Houston with a French accent.
We left the party around midnight, because Big D dragged our asses to Bobo’s – the K-town club where I had my birthday last month. But when we got there, it was dark and empty. Shut down. I’m assuming it’s yet another victim of the weird legal battles the Korean clubs wage against each other. My old home, Prive, took almost two years to open for the same reason. What happened to the good old days when Asian night clubs would battle each other with spikey-haired gangsters armed with uzis and Members Only jackets? Wait a sec, that was “Year of the Dragon.”
Yet another weird, weird dream. I was out having lunch with two coworkers. Only the two coworkers turned out to be DUN-dun-dunnnn: hipstomp and naka_chan. Holy shit it’s finally come to this, Livejournal people hanging out in my subconscious.
This is what happens when you finish half a bottle of Grey Goose on Friday night. I think it might’ve had something to do with hipstomp kindly offering to help out on a project I was working on a few weeks ago. Naka was in there because they were sharing a tuna sandwich. And I don’t care what you bastards think, there was absolutely zero gay-ness in this dream. And I don’t care if my bringing up that there was absolutely zero gay-ness could be interpreted as a sign that the exact opposite is true.
So I had a small, intimate dinner with Aileen, Chuck, Geney Boy, T, and T’s new woman, PhillyChick. The reason for the dinner was for us to get to know PhillyChick and vice-versa. Of course, whenever a guy wants to introduce his close buds to his new girlfriend, it’s never about having an in-depth chat with the girl and ALL about embarrassing the hell out of the boy.
It basically turns into the guy’s roast, as his so-called pals take turns fondly recalling his most humiliating moments. In T’s case, it was much, much too easy. Whether it’s quoting some of his infamous lines (“There’s plenty of women in the ocean.”) or describing how after watching “The Sixth Sense” he stayed over my place and watched ESPN ‘til 5am, we could’ve gone on for hours. But we had to meet up with other people at a café.
That’s where T introduced everybody else to PhillyChick. She gave a good first impression. Granted this is a long-distance relationship to the extreme, since T will be in Hong Kong for at least a year, but I pushed aside my skepticism for now. Dude’s been searching for a serious girlfriend for years. After it was starting to look like he’d dated the entire ocean without any luck, he found her right before he moved out of LA. And now he’s downright loopy; how can you not be happy for the guy?
T and Chuck - stick a fork in both their lovesick asses.
Around 1am, Big D tried to get everybody to head over to Karnak. But we’d already gone there with him Friday night, after finding out that Bobo’s was closed. A bunch of the girls headed over to Martini Lounge, which must’ve reopened or something ‘cause that place has been around for eons. And as for the boring couples, we opted to go home and fornicate.
So we bailed on Big D. I wouldn’t find out ‘til much later that he suddenly decided to move to New York. Manhattan, baby. Moving this week in fact. The guy never brought it up, hasn’t even sold his Porsche yet. Doesn’t even have a job lined up. He just finally decided to just jump in there, eyes closed. And he won’t find out what he’s in for until he’s actually in it, whether it’s knee-deep or over his head. All he knows for certain is that he wants something to change.
I’d find out in the following days that he’s not the only one.